


there's a shining in the shadows (i'll never know unless i try)

by blueacorn



Category: Captain America (Movies)
Genre: Eventual Dad!Bucky, Gen, M/M, Warning: Effects of Brainwashing, Warning: Forced Obedience (by HYDRA), characters added as we go
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2017-03-31
Updated: 2017-03-31
Packaged: 2018-10-13 10:17:45
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,712
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10511748
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/blueacorn/pseuds/blueacorn
Summary: The first time she saw him, she was afraid.He was following behind one of the men who trained her- trained them- quiet and unblinking, and she was afraid.Their trainer, with his false, wide grin, and unfeeling eyes stood before them, the soldier by his side.“Look,” he said, as he handed a gun to the soldier, “This is what you must become.”---The Winter Soldier saves a young girl, and together, they learn to be free.





	

**Author's Note:**

> Warnings for this chapter: Effects of Brainwashing, Forced Obedience (by HYDRA) (details at the end of the chapter), mild violence.

_“Where are we going?”_

A flickering gaze of blue eyes shaded grey in the dark, gloved fingers twitching, oddly gentle on her shoulder.

“ _Somewhere safe.”_

She swallows her tears, lips curling into a frown. She walks stiffly, obediently beside the man, willing her voice not to waver as she asks, “ _Is this a test?”_

She is not entirely sure what she expects; the man turning to her with a wide, assuring smile, confirming her suspicions, or-

Her frown deepens.

 _Hope,_ she tells herself sternly, _is not meant for people like us._

The man’s steps do not falter, although he glances at her with what she thinks is meant to be concern.

Then, softly, “ _No._ ”

And this is not right - there is always a mission, an objective, a _goal_. She knows what is expected of her, and she always fulfills it. There is never any other choice.

“ _Why won’t you tell me,_ ” she dares to question, uncertainty and desperation crackling in her words, “ _what I am meant to do?”_

For a moment there is silence, and anger wells up in her. It’s a bitter, brittle rage she cannot hold back, and she wrenches herself out of the man’s grip, knowing only that punishment would be a welcome alternative to the games they meant to play with her.

“ _I do not want to go,”_ she chokes out, lowering herself into the battle ready stance the man had taught her weeks before.

_Breathe._

_Balance._

_Speed._

_Yes,_ she thinks distantly, _this must be the test. Death over betrayal._

She has no weapons, no tech, and they have pitted her against _him_. Perhaps they have entirely too much confidence in her abilities. Or she is not meant to survive.

No. She has been good, she has done nothing to warrant punishment. She will pass. She _must_ pass.

She breathes. She strikes.

And under the rush of wind, the loud, steady thumps of her heart, she hears -

“ _I will not hurt you,_ ” stilted, hoarse, “ _Natalia._ ”

She almost hesitates. Her name, spoken deliberately, uneven voice curling around it with _something_ \- an emotion she can’t identify.

Then she discards the thought with a silent scoff, momentum carrying her forward, her kick landing hard against the man’s left arm - metal, she sees now - raised quickly in defense. The soldier does not _feel._

“ _You’ve never been this talkative,_ ” she snaps past the ringing in her ears, “ _Are they telling you what to say?”_

He shakes his head, and she is almost annoyed at the slow gesture in the midst of what she had hoped was a challenge to him.

“ _There is no one.”_

 _“There is always someone,”_ she snarls, disengaging and retreating, eyes scanning desperately for any sign of a weakness, an opening - surely there must be _something_ -

For a moment, there is only the sound of her quickened breath.

Then, gaze unflinching, he _relaxes_ , arms dropping to his sides.

“ _I will not hurt you,”_ he repeats, and, for the first time, it’s gentle - the look in his eyes almost... _soft._

The anger returns, surging up within her, catching in her throat, accursed tears gathering in her eyes.

“ _Then you will die,”_ she spits, launching herself at him once more.

He never raises a hand, not even in defense - and every strike hits its target.

The Winter Soldier’s blue gaze unwavering.

 _Why?_ She wants to ask, as her attacks get weaker, as her confidence shatters.

 _Why me?_ Questions each heartbeat as she loses the fight against persistent tears.

_Why these doubts when everything has been clear since the day of my creation?_

And there is silence.

She doesn’t realise she has stopped until she hears a step, a slight crunch of snow. She dashes away the wetness from her eyes, and glares up at the man who has caused her uncertainty.

“ _You have,”_ he begins, and she can sense his struggle, his hesitation before he continues, “ _a choice.”_

And he says no more, only holding out a hand - pale, strong fingers curling ever so slightly.

This is not the first choice she has had to make. This is not the first test she has had to go through. No, it is the same, it has always been the same. Except-

 _Is this,_ she wonders, as she meets his gaze, _what it means to trust?_

She reaches out, and takes his hand.

 

* * *

 

The first time she saw him, she was afraid.

He was following behind one of the men who trained her- trained _them -_  quiet and unblinking, and she was afraid.

Their handler, with his false, wide grin, and unfeeling eyes stood before them, the soldier by his side.

“ _Look_ ,” he said, as he handed a gun to the soldier, “ _This is what you must become_.”

And they watched as the man commanded the soldier to place the gun in his mouth and pull the trigger.

The _click_ of an empty barrel sounded loud in the room as the soldier complied immediately, without hesitation.

That was not the end.

She watched, terror and awe clashing within her, nausea rising in her throat, as the soldier brought himself close to death time and time again, always on the man’s orders.

When the demonstration ended, the man’s smile was no longer false. His eyes were no longer unfeeling.

“ _This_ ,” he said once more, gesturing to the bruised and bleeding soldier, still standing tall, “ _is what you must become_.”

 

* * *

 

“ _Why have you betrayed them?_ ” She asks as they journey further, and further still.

Her question remains unanswered for a time, silence heavy between them.

When her feet are heavy, her hand going slack in his grip - when he stops, and gathers her up in his arms-

When her head rests against his chest, her small fist clutching at his jacket, her eyes fluttering closed, he whispers, almost to himself, “ _Is it still a betrayal when your loyalties have been forced?”_

 

* * *

 

The second time she saw him, she was older. His obedience did not frighten her.

It was a different man he followed that time. The man spoke only once, loud enough for them all to hear.

“ _You will train them to fight._ ”

Again, the soldier followed with no hesitation, and this time, she felt only admiration.

 _Teach me how to be like you,_ she wanted to say, as she watched his unquestioning obedience.

On that first day, there was a small window of time before the soldier was collected by their handler.

 _Teach me,_ she thought, _show me how your loyalty never falters._

She walked up to him, heart pounding, and all she could think to ask, to know this perfect soldier, was, “What is your name?”

He looked at her, and said, “ _Codename: Winter Soldier._ ”

She persisted, even as she cursed herself for the inane question, “ _But what is your name?_ ”

For the first time, she saw him hesitate, confusion leaking into his gaze.

It lasted for only a moment, before his expression went blank once more, and he said, “ _I am not currently operating under an alias._ ”

The handler had returned before she could ask another question, and casted them both a suspicious look, before ordering the soldier to his side.

 _That_ , she had thought, refusing to acknowledge the apprehension in her throat, _is what I must become._

 

* * *

 

When she wakes, she is in a bed.

She does not wake slowly, and recognizes the unfamiliarity of her surroundings immediately. It is a small, dark room, pale light streaming through a tiny window, landing softly on a round table, a flimsy plastic chair at its side.

She is alone.

Alone, and-

She swallows, refusing to cry.

Abandoned?

If this were a test she had failed, she would not have woken here, in a bed, with the exit within sight. Then - had he changed his mind? Or perhaps he’d thought her too much of a burden, and left-

The door creaks open, and she is on her feet instantly, her lips pulled back into a snarl. If she is to be punished, if she has to return, they will _not_ take her quietly.

There is a flash of metal, and then-

“ _Natalia,”_ almost reproachful, “ _you should be sleeping.”_

She is frozen, adrenaline coursing through her veins, and she wants to let out her breath, but realises she has none.

Slowly, painfully, she relaxes, and forces herself to take a slow breath, instead of the gasping she aches to do.

 _“Where-”_ did you go? She wants to ask, but swallows the words, asking instead, “ _Where are we?”_

He sets down a bag she had not noticed he was holding, and looks out the window in a quick, nervous motion.

“ _Not somewhere safe,”_ he says, before his gaze settles on her.

 _“You are exhausted,”_ he notes, starting forward, but keeping his distance.

 _“Exhaustion means nothing,”_ she says automatically, even as her body protests.

 _“Exhaustion means mistakes,”_ the soldier counters, “ _We do not have the luxury to make mistakes. Not yet.”_

“ _Time is the luxury we do not have!”_ she insists, eyes narrowed. She is not _weak._

“ _You are stubborn,”_ she hears, and flinches back, apologies on her tongue, until she sees his lips quirk into a smile; small and barely there, but a sight so unexpected, she is speechless, “ _That is good.”_

Then he settles into the chair by the window, and does not say another word.

She remains standing, at first in shock, then in stubbornness. Still he does not speak. She intends to stand until he gives in, but he was correct. She is exhausted. Her gaze travels to the bed, sheets rumpled and inviting.

Eyes darting quickly to the soldier’s still figure, she takes a step forward. He does not move. Another step. His eyes stay fixed on the grimy glass. Her last step takes her to the edge of the bed, and that still does not bring a change.

She is, after all, not at her full strength. If it were on any other day, she tells herself, he would be the one to lose.

She climbs onto the bed, assured, and lays down, the tension in her body ebbing away as each second passes.

Eventually, inevitably, sleep begins to lay its claim on her, and the last thing she sees is the lost blue of the soldier’s eyes, turned silver by the moonlight.

**Author's Note:**

> Warning: The forced obedience involves the Winter Soldier following orders that to his knowledge, would prove fatal. In other words, to him, they would be ordering him to commit suicide, and he would do it with no hesitation.
> 
> Ahh, this all began because i was like "man, nat as bucky's daughter is adorable wait what if he's her dad (sort of) in the canon universe" and then this happened. 
> 
> I hope you enjoy! I am both excited and afraid to continue. Also, stucky is a definite go, but buck's and nat's relationship takes priority for now!
> 
> Title from Gabrielle Aplin's Home
> 
> Not completely sure about the rating, so it's open to changes oop


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